As one goes through life, one learns that if you don't paddle your own canoe, you don't move.
Be like a duck. Calm on the surface, but always paddling like the dickens underneath.
If there is magic on this planet, it is contained in water.
Everyone must believe in something. I believe I'll go canoeing.
The storms come and go, the waves crash overhead, the big fish eat the little fish, and I keep on paddling. (Varys)
The first river you paddle runs through the rest of your life. It bubbles up in pools and eddies to remind you who you are.
Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.
What sets a canoeing expedition apart is that it purifies you more rapidly and inescapably than any other. Travel a thousand miles by train and you are a brute; pedal five hundred on a bicycle and you remain basically a bourgeois; paddle a hundred in a canoe and you are already a child of nature.
Paddling a canoe is a source of enrichment and inner renewal.
I'm like a duck: calm above the water, and paddling like hell underneath.
Wherever there is a channel for water, there is a road for the canoe.
A river is more than an amenity, it is a treasure.
There is nothing - absolutely nothing - half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.
The river delights to lift us free, if only we dare let go.
The secret of success is to be like a duck, Smooth and unruffled on top, But paddling furiously underneath.
I have never seen a river that I could not love. Moving water... has a fascinating vitality. It has power and grace and associations. It has a thousand colors and a thousand shapes, yet it follows laws so definite that the tiniest streamlet is an exact replica of a great river.
I've always thought you should concentrate on paddling your own canoe.
To some people, I may seem calm. But if you could peer beneath the surface, you would see that I'm like a duck--paddling, paddling, paddling.
Well, in regards to surfing, I’ve learned that there is always another wave coming. Translated that means there is always tomorrow. No matter how badly you get caught inside, if you can just hang in there and keep paddling, the set is going to pass and there will be a lull afterwards. So don’t give up, just take your pounding, wait until the set passes, then make your move.
Swift or smooth, broad as the Hudson or narrow enough to scrape your gunwales, every river is a world of its own, unique in pattern and personality. Each mile on a river will take you further from home than a hundred miles on a road.
I love the ocean and have a passion for surfing, even though I'm not very good at it. I like getting out there and paddling around.
Everyone gets caught inside when surfing. You have 2 options. Give up or paddle outside. Life is the same. Keep paddling!
I gave my heart to the mountains the minute I stood beside this river with its spray in my face and watched it thunder into foam, smooth to green glass over sunken rocks, shatter to foam again. I was fascinated by how it sped by and yet was always there; its roar shook both the earth and me.
At the window he sits and looks out, musing on the river, a little brown hen duck paddling upstream among the windwaves close to the far bank. What he has understood lies behind him like a road in the woods. He is a wilderness looking out at the wild.
I think this is when most people give up on their stories. They come out of college wanting to change the world, wanting to get married, wanting to have kids and change the way people buy office supplies. But they get into the middle and discover it was harder than they thought. They can't see the distant shore anymore, and they wonder if their paddling is moving them forward. None of the trees behind them are getting smaller and none of the trees ahead are getting bigger. They take it out on their spouses, and they go looking for an easier story.
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